Neo-Seireitei: From Serrated Teeth
by Monkeybandit2
Summary: Even the displaced may call a strange place and people home and family. Even strangers fight for strangers put in harms way be it direct or latent.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Bleach, Naruto, any other element that may or may not appear in this story. ****This story is for entertainment purposes only, not merchandising, branding, or anything else to implicate ownership or a similar function...**

**Doesn't mean I don't wish I owned either of them.**

Neo-Seireitei: From Serrated Teeth

_The Elemental Nations, a continent composed to numerous nations of humans both meek and powerful. __While even the smallest, the weakest, and even the least wealthy can and have built great cities at one time or another, only a few have ever been home to a shinobi village._

_A shinobi village, to put mildly, is the home to a grand number of their titled namesake; __someone who had spent years upon years training both mind and body to harness a power found in even those born far away from their profession to improve their prowess in battle and espionage if need be. __This power, known as chakra, has given them powers no normal human could casually bear from breathing fire to bending the senses, from creating lifelike doubles from near immaterial substances to summoning what would casually be dubbed as summons, often a animal of immense size and often possessing human intellect. __Yet even with these powers that often defy common understanding, even they could be taken by surprise and subsequently left with their own mysteries._

_Twelve years ago a nation seemingly appeared out of nowhere and laid claim to the Land of Waves in one day, ever since that day the mysterious nation has lived in complete seclusion from then world at large despite the bridge that connected the to the mainland. __What few traders that have entered the 'new land' returned with the fruits of labor often in the form of tradable goods but never with an ounce of memory of what had occurred within the closed off borders. __Of the shinobi sent in from the villages to learn of their new neighbor, few ever returned being any the wiser than when they had left; __none that may have learned of anything ever returned. __All that was known for certain were the high walls and the barest edges of a castle's roofing plus a high rising tower as seen from afar, nothing more, nothing less.__What life was like and what business that was conducted inside those walls was nothing less than an enigma to outsiders._

Chapter 1: At the other side

Harribel's Manor, District Three (East), Neo-Seireitei

Rare was it for _anyone_ to wake him after the rise of the morning sun for any particular reason. If anyone had normally tried then they would've found, at best, a neatly made bed bearing faint, if any, signs of recent occupancy. Yet there were those times where once, perhaps twice a year where someone would have encountered a figure buried beneath the sheets and blankets of a white, utterly, most likely unwittingly, ignoring the colorless pillows in favor of warmth and what darkness that was granted as protection from the rising sun. As such the woman who intruded on this scene, a tall woman of golden hair, primarily messy with three lengthy locks tied at the sides of her face and back of her neck, found it a bit of a treat of sorts...

She couldn't help but smirk when she happened upon this scene. The smirk of course turned to a slightly impish smile hidden away by a high rising collar and a mask of bone when its wearer gingerly reached down and effectively yanked away the covers to reveal a slumbering blond teenager whose eyes unfortunately snapped open to stare at the brilliant greeting the massive ball of fire that was sunlight had in store for him from an uncovered window.

"GAAAH!"

She had to bite back a gentle giggle when both of the teenager's hands slapped themselves as improvised shields against the light. "You're breakfast is getting cold." Without ado she turned around and sauntered through the door, her smile bordering on a hidden grin when she heard the incoherent grumble of a growl aimed at her.

While big, the structure of the entire estate was simple enough to be navigated through when blindfolded with but sparse decorations decorating here and there to liven up what would otherwise be a dull environment as far as such matters were concerned. Namely paintings, the occasional vase, and other knick knacks that had been added over the years. Seconds before rounding a corner she heard the door open and on glancing to confirm its source she called out, "Do not forget that we have practice after breakfast."

Her hidden smile returned to her in full force as she closed her eyes with while she once more heard the almost typical rumblings of a teenager still trying to cope with being woken up as she walked past the corner.

XVX

Backyard, thirty minutes later

Whereas most people with a significant track of where grass was more dominant than anything else would've turned it into a garden or have it play host to some form of project, hers was that of a training field in the form of a large circular patch of flattened earth that had seen its share of scuffs that time had yet to wear away thanks to the field's constant use. And while he wasn't lazy by nature, she all but counted the minutes with nothing but the almost nonexistent movements of the shadows to act as her watch as he took his time to reach the barren patch of dirt in nothing but slightly rugged blue shorts and an equally rough grey T-shirt. Tied to a black sash further tied to his waist lay a katana with its handle garbed in a black wrapping, leaving behind dark blue diamonds in their wake. Color wise it was almost a direct contrast to her own garb— White hakama pants with a black trim with a wide black band of cloth acting as a belt. Black tabi socks encased slightly by sandals. Covering her from the underside of her breasts was a jacket with a high collar colored similarly to her pants in design, the sleeves of which however ended in an open, loose fashion compared to most jackets.

"Are you ready?" she asked once he stopped a few feet from her from within the circle. Tired looking as he was, his answer came with the slow drawing of his sword with his right hand, slashing the blade almost lazily through the air before holding aloft in his one handed grip.

_Zttt-Clang!_

And within the span of a second the blade shifted to the side, effectively blocking a otherwise unyielding strike from a sword of an unusual make, its 'core' was hollowed out, leaving nothing but surprisingly resilient edges of a wide sword with a hand guard ornamented with equally hollow shamrocks on both ends, that continued to push against an equally unmoving force.

_Shing!__Clash!__Clang!_

Soon he gave up ground to weather an onslaught of hefty blows with the speed and grace of an experienced swordsman. With each block he stepped back with no evident concern on his more awakened face that continued to dredge itself out of the last vestiges of his sleepy state. A gleam in his eye took place in mid-swing from his opponent and his blade, instead of blocking, dipped past to the back of the passing blade and forcibly nudged it, effectively sending the other sword into a wider arc than intended as its provoker made to stab at the woman.

_Crackle!_

Upon her sudden disappearance both hands grasped the hilt of the black handle as he swung himself around, a smirk on his lips as he pierced the emptiness of the unusual sword as if to stab her once more.

_WHAM!_

His efforts, and smirk, were in vain when a knee was slammed into his gut with enough force to force him to not only bow from the blow itself and lift him up from the ground at the same time. Distracted, he hadn't had the time to react when the woman disappeared in a crackle of static only to have her hand capture his most free one, bend it back behind him, and force him onto his knees in submission.

"What did we learn?" she calmly asked.

"That I should've weaseled out a few more minutes to wake up." A fist softly, admonishingly bopped the top of his head and rested there. "That I should be more aware that the threat of enemy doesn't lie with just their weapon," he answered in a groan.

"Anything else?"

"That I should think ahead for the unexpected rather than become overconfident with the speed and power of what's deemed to be a finishing blow."

"Correct." Both hands left him and he stood up, yawning slightly and grumbling once more as if what had happened never took place.

"My, my, you seem enthused this morning." Both heads snapped towards the head of their arena and focused on a man of light blond hair that slightly framed his head and covered the upper part of his nose with a single loose lock of hair, his eyes shadowed under the brim of a white and dark green vertically striped bucket hat. His clothes were dark green, covered only by a dark brown coat with white diamonds along the bottom edge, his feet were bare save for a pair of geta. In his right hand, probably his one true garnishment to those that knew of him, was a simple cane.

"Kisuke Urahara," the woman simply stated, her eyes casually narrowing from her default state of being half open to begin with. "I wasn't aware we were entertaining guests today."

The man softly chuckled and pulled out a fan from the inside of his shirt which he fanned himself with a second later upon casually snapping it open. "Sorry for intruding but I felt it prudent to check up on your son since he didn't show up yesterday."

The shorter blond tilted his head slightly, his eyes glazed over in thought, for but a second before his eyes widened in realization of something. "I'm sorry," he stated, "I completely forgot about it yesterday..."

"I understand!" he laughed. "Matsumoto can be a handful when she's drunk, isn't she?"

It was not a full second later that Kisuke found himself being used as a human shield from a maternal glare aimed not at him but her son the split second she turned to find he wasn't in his previous spot. Again he chuckled softly, albeit nervously. "Yeah... did I mention she has a habit of abducting people she likes when her normal retinue of drinking pals aren't available?"

The glare let up in any way, if anything it was narrowed even further to such a fractional degree that it wouldn't be noticed even by an expert eye in such matters.

"Perhaps I should... get myself properly clothed before leaving today," the younger of the two all but whispered.

"Y-yes... it wouldn't do having to spend your whole day beating lovely women off with a stick as you are now!" Kisuke half proclaimed in a mild, nervous cackle as his fan tried to banish the anxious beads of sweat beginning to collected on his forehead.

Not once did the glare didn't relent.

XVX

Urahara Shop, forty-two minutes later

A two story building built like a traditional shop of old, this was both the store and home of Kisuke Urahara and those close to him. If one went in for shopping needs they would find it satisfactory for their more mundane needs such as snacks and even some clothes shopping at best, limited though it may be. Yet as it had in the days of old over a decade ago it still serviced those known as soul reapers when the occasion arose. Arrancar, once enemies and general opposite of the soul reapers, came and were serviced here as well since the shop was essentially rebuilt. The only real addition made to the shop at all was the house sized building built inside a otherwise hidden underground massive room deliberately and painstakingly made to look like one had inadvertently came outside to a barren, slightly mountainous landscape during mid-day should someone climbed at least a quarter of the way down the ladder that lead to it. Inside this 'house' was machinery of all manner that would even send most scientist's heads spinning if they took it all at once. In truth it was in fact a labroatory, a messy one at that between the odd configurations and the odd cable running along the walls and floors. If this particular lab had a name then it was unstated even by Urahara who currently manned a computer in front of an empty tank, still wet from recent use as someone dressed them self behind a drawn medical screen.

"Well as far as bad news goes there isn't anything to be worried about."

"Just like the last time and the occasion before that in what would be dozens by now?" the teenager called out in an uninterested fashion.

"Yep!"

"Then wouldn't it be fair to say that this test, for all intents and purposes, has been pointless?"

"I suppose. Yet you can't blame me for being a tad paranoid."

"Be that as it may, I think I'll simply accuse you of simply wasting time if nothing else."

"Now that just a little mean!" he faux-whined.

"I didn't mean to be that way," the teen said as he stepped out from the curtain. His garb, overall, was much like his mothers save for three marginally distinct differences. Whereas her jacket exposed the region of her stomach and by extension her back where it was most relevant, his didn't save for a slim parting between his pants and his jacket, and what skin that would've been seen was covered by a wrapping of bandages. The cuffs of his jackets were smaller than its compared copy, narrower but loose all the same. Last but not least was the black face mask covering everything beneath the bridge of his nose that served to cover his face as oppose to a high collar that was nonexistent for his jacket. "Just if the worst of it had long since passed as far as these tests are concerned then I just can't help but think it redundant at this point," he supplemented.

"Oh I understand," Kisuke sighed as the console he stood in front of began to power down. "But like I said I can't help but be a bit paranoid." The last of the diodes powered down. "As far as reckless and crazy experiments go, you took the cake amongst everything I had done to date."

"Oh give it time, you might find something that'll top me eventually."

A hearty chuckle escaped Urahara as he grabbed his cane and made for the door, the younger man behind him at the last few steps. "There certainly is the possibility, isn't there?" As he opened the door the cascading light filtered in and danced off the sigil of a bound scroll set to the side on a simple stand, catching the man's confused eye for a moment.

"Oh! It seems you're not the only one forgetting things lately," Kisuke sighed as he reached for the scroll and handed it to the curious blond. "A courier from the First Squad dropped by yesterday in hopes of delivering this to you but... well it doesn't really matter does it?" He smirked slightly and went out the door just as the younger of the two opened the scroll and propped the door open with his foot to better read its contents.

XVX

Open Foyer, Squad One's barracks

If one expected something grand for it the squad headed by the Head Captain himself then they would've have to make do with the one and only aspect that made it different than most squads: the meeting hall. Otherwise one would have to simply accept being disappointed with surprisingly standard amenities the other squads had such as the captain's quarters, the barracks, and a drill yard next to its grassy lawn. If nothing else then its shear proximity to the looming castle behind it was sure to raise a brow or two... provided of course they somehow never realized it how close it was to begin with. For the raven haired woman, dressed in the normal shihakusho garb of soul reapers, she found relative comfort in the simplicity of it all. While not as ornate as her family home or even of the squads to which she and her brother respectively belong to, there was peace to be had here, not that it alleviated her stress by a great deal however.

At the soft creaking of wood she turned her gaze from the blue sky and the grassy field to the more peculiar sight of white as oppose to black. Peculiar namely because few if any arrancar ever went near a squad's barracks let alone the Head Captain's own domain, save of course squad three's own barracks by comparison. She squinted at first upon the suspicion of this arrancar being familiar to her in hopes of discerning his identity; only so few within their entire city had blond hair after all in spite the minute myriad of colors amongst the predominant black haired community. Her eyes widened slightly and her subconscious frown of peculiarity deepened in confusion as he approached.

"Misses Kurosaki, it's been awhile," he uttered just before stopping a few feet from her. In return she gave him a small, polite smile with her own response. "It has, hasn't it?"

Her frown however returned at its own accord. "I must say though, I never expected to see you here of all places. As I understand it your mother still hasn't quite forgotten the last battle in Winter War despite everything that happened afterwards."

Blue eyes closed as he took a contemplative breath. "If you're asking if she's at least aware that I'm here, she isn't..."

A brow perked. "Oh?" she asked. A minute later a slight smirk crept onto her face. "Entering your rebellious phase I take it?" Her smirk grew as his mask could only do so much to hide the countering scowl aimed at her. Again her brow perked as he unzipped his jacket half way, revealing nothing but bare skin and a woven cord for a necklace holding aloft a circular, hollow pendant containing a evenly spaced Y-shaped structure. Reaching a hand in he quickly pulled out a scroll from the confines of his jacket and promptly sealed his jacket back to its original state.

"As you inferred, I lack any particular reason to come here. But given the animosity between the two, I cannot help but find it curious that he would ask for me."

Her lip curled into a small glower. "I would like to point out that if anything it's one sided as far as this... feud, if you will, is concerned." Her gaze drifted onto the scroll proper and became clouded in pensive thought.

"Perhaps," he admitted. "But even if there wasn't any resentment to begin with, I still can't help but wonder why he would request me to meet him." He leveled more of his gaze on her. "You wouldn't by chance know, would you?"

The haze lifted from her eyes and she slowly looked away after a thoughtful moment. "It isn't my place to say," she finally answered after a pause. "Or at least I don't want to presume anything."

"... I see. If you will excuse me." She turned to him and offered him a small smile before tearing her gaze from him in favor of the view she enjoyed moments before.

XVX

Meeting Hall

"I've been expecting you," rumbled an elderly man... ancient in all honesty between the wrinkled skin that held a X-shaped scar where is hairless head and forehead was concerned, the exceptionally long white beard, and bushy eyebrows, who was sitting on the only chair within the meeting hall. He was dressed like any other soul reaper save for the haori draped across his shoulders bearing the rhombus encased insignia for squad one on the middle of its back. In his one handed grasp, the other missing thanks to a war long ago, was an old oaken staff with a large knot that made up its 'head.'

The blond stopped and examined him for a moment before bowing slightly. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Head Captain, but frankly I wasn't even aware you had summoned me until a short while ago."

The elder man only hummed and nodded slightly to a recently used pillow situated before him. "Please sit. This may take some time to discuss."

It wasn't long for the pillow to be occupied and an attendant replenished what was a previously unseen, hidden away by the pillow, bowl of rice crackers and a fresh cup of tea much to the younger man's latent curiosity.

"With all due respect, I didn't expect such a cushy reception."

"The pillow was originally for Kurosaki's wife who had been here but minutes before," the elder, Genryusai Yamamoto, answered. "Since it was already here, we may as well have made use for it."

"I see."

Silence reigned between them as a half lidded gaze met one that was almost lidded completely. Both analytically picking each other apart in a quiet gauging of the other for their own reasoning.

"The Seireitei can no longer afford the luxury of being isolated from the world around it."

A brow slowly rose up on the teenager's forehead. "What, may I ask, makes you say that?"

Slowly old weathered eyes peered out from behind their wrinkled covers. "Because for the first time since we have laid down the foundation of Neo-Seireitei the wall had been breached by outsiders barely three nights ago."

All trace of reserved seriousness at best gave way for sheer surprise. "With due respect sir I think such news would've spread like wildfire by now."

The elder man hummed in acknowledgement. "It happened in the dead of night and thankfully caught by several patrolmen on duty at the time. The incident itself, though swiftly dealt with, is to be held in silence so not to alarm the populace; we've even gone so far as to hastily repair the damage and quarantine the affect site before dawn's first light on that night. Regardless, the signs are clear to us if not to our enemy, we are not invulnerable; our barriers both physical and spiritual cannot hold our more determined intruders at bay any longer when they aren't caught by the Stealth Force in time. And given our own alienation of the world we've come to the decision that we must forge alliances to better prepare us for what may come," he answered gravely.

The brow gradually lowered and the cool demeanor resumed itself on the blonde's visible face. "Am I right to assume then that you wish to send me off to the outside world then?"

"Indeed," the Head Captain solemnly replied.

The blond stared at him for a silent moment. "To act as a bodyguard or to act as a emissary?"

"The former... I've already selected Rukia Kurosaki to act as our representative for the Elemental Nations."

Again the younger of the two stared at him for a unbroken period of silence. "... I apologize for coming off as rude," he carefully spoke, "but I feel as if there is more than what you are telling me, Head Captain."

His heart fluttered slightly in dread as the head captain's gaze seemed to bore holes into him in the form of a wordless reprimand...

"In the village of shinobi we wish to form an alliance with there is what is called a event called "Chunin Exam" to take place there. There other villages send forth their most inexperienced of members in groups with the hopes of improving their station and impress the crowds that are to come there to engage their business interests. I am also given to understand that mercenaries can also participate within this exam under special circumstances. With luck we can enter our own team to better aid us as either a deterrent for future war, or, if fortune favors us, promote talk for future alliances with the other villages should our true intent fail to be realized."

"... I see..." the teenager said. Again he bowed, albeit more deeply than before by comparison. "Again I apologize."

The elder man's eyes soon came to be hidden behind the veil of his lids once more.

"But I have a question if you will." Again the captain's gaze came upon the now straightened teenager in a half lidded gaze. "Am I being asked or am I being ordered?"

"You are not a part of any of the squads, young Harribel. Even then forcing those into this mission would most likely only aggravate the hornet's nest that this had become behind closed doors," the elder captain rumbled.

Again a moment of silence ensued between them, broken only by the younger of the two. "If I may ask, may I think about this before I give my answer?"

The Head Captain nodded in a light dip. "Be wary though," he warned. "No matter how you answer, our emissary and her party are to leave on the morning three days from now."

"I understand." Standing up, he bowed slightly before turning and parting from the hall.

XVX

Outside

The shoji quietly closed behind him, not that he was paying attention in favor the sight before him. Rukia, the woman who was sitting near the edge of the platform when he arrived, had left it seemed, replaced a tanned woman two heads taller than himself. It was obvious to everyone she was an arrancar as made evident of her white clothing lined in black, in this particular case hakama pants with a heavy wrapping of bandages on her chest that left everything below her covered naval and above the highest point of her forcibly flattened bosom bare as far as the wandering eye was concerned, and the mask of bone adorning her face; a complete mask that covered her entire face in layer after layer of segmented bone with each layer's tapered points in perfect alignment along the middle of the mask that held tilde styled slights for her eyes. On her back in a leather sheath was a great sword, a flamberge in actuality for those who personally knew of her...

The blond, coming out of his momentary daze, narrowed his eyes slightly in exasperation than any other emotion that now assailed him... including the slight dread of what was to undoubtedly come. "She knows I'm here already, doesn't she?"

All hopes of perhaps the smallest, most unbelievable amount of luck that bordered on the foundations of miracles was dashed when she nodded her silent answer.

"... Better get this over with then," he sighed in resignation with the despondent clenching of his eyes.

XVX

Kurosaki residence, District Four (East)

Not even ten minutes in upon crossing the threshold of their modern home was she was assailed by a giggling little ten year old girl with jet black hair dressed in more modern clothes, jeans and a yellow sleeveless blouse to be precise.

"Dad! Mom's home!"

"I'll be right there!"

A sudden jerk had the woman on her knee, more out of parental indulgence than surprise, and soon a pair of young lips accompanied by a hand nudging the side of said lips like a shield were practically brushing against the cartilage. "Dad's cooking again!" the child whispered in matching childish disgust. "Can you please make him toss it into the garbage?"

"Now, now," her mother chided as she stood up. "You know as well as I do that he's practicing..." Her face soured instantaneously. "Unfortunately unlike fighting it's going to take him time to master..."

A crop of short, mildly spiky orange hair and its exasperated owner popped out of the kitchen door. "I'll have you two know that I _am_ improving," he said with a scowl.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!_

His face fell and a pitiful sigh left him. "I'll be back in a minute..." he grumbled just before pulling his head back into the kitchen.

"Out of curiosity, what was it he was trying to cook?"

"A meatloaf..." her daughter sighed.

A smirk briefly flirted across the woman's face before she frowned slightly.

"Masaki," the girl's head cantered to her mother with a puzzled curl to her lip, "can you please go get your aunt Karin for me please?"

"Ok..." she drawled. "Why though?"

Her mother simply smiled at her. "Because your father and I are going to have a talk and I'm fairly sure I know how it's going to end."

"Ok, I'll be right back then!" she announced before dashing over to her discard shoes, slipping them on and rushed out the door in time for a now intrigued yet concerned, still scowling face of Ichigo Kurosaki to peer out of the kitchen once more as the door slammed to a shut.

"What's going on?" he murmured. All Rukia could do to quell his concern was offer him a small, weary smile as she made her way down the hallway to the living room. With a sigh he resigned himself back to the kitchen where the clinking of glasses and snapping of switches could be heard for a good moment, though not in their respective order. A half minute later her emerged with a cup of tea in each hand and followed his wife down the hallway, meeting her long after she commandeered a comfortable reclining chair for herself despite not using its more famous function, her sword left on an almost decorative weapons rack hanging from the wall.

"You know your father sure can pick chairs," she said with a gentle smile as she watched her own hand rub fabric belonging to an arm of the chair.

"Well he is getting on in years," Ichigo offered as he set the cups on a the elongated coffee table in the middle of the room. "The only sad part of it though is that he hardly uses it."

A amused hum left Rukia. "Speaking of who, where is he?" she inquired, turning her attention on Ichigo who was smirking while getting himself comfortable on a three seated couch.

"He's... spending 'quality time 'with Yosho," he answered with a slightly wicked smirk.

"Poor Yuzu," she quipped.

"Yep... poor Yuzu," Ichigo sighed with a smile cheating what was said. It was lost to his more famous scowl however. "So what is it that old man Yamamoto wanted to talk about?"

Her own smile was lost to a contemplating glower as she considered on what to say, all the while her hand was reaching out for her cup. Even when she acquired it and settled into the chair she kept her silence in favor of swishing the contents of her cup about in thought.

"There's been an incident," she answered bluntly much to her husband's deepened scowl.

"What kind?"

"... A team of shinobi from the mainland somehow managed to evade the Stealth Force's surveillance long enough to actually breach into the western districts where their incursion was stopped thanks to a late night patrol. It all happened three nights ago. To keep the public from panicking the entire matter had been down played as maintenance work while the damage was being repaired."

A respectful silence passed between the two while she took a careful sip from her cup.

"Our current sources however weren't' able to identify which village they were from however," she resumed solemnly. "Given light to this situation the Head Captain, Parliament, and Central have unanimously agreed that an envoy plus a guard unit would venture to the nearest, largest shinobi village for a twofold purpose to broker an alliance: If we're lucky we would win over the "Leaf Village" as it is called with words alone, if not then we can at least attempt to enter members from the guard unit to participate in a tournament they're holding called the "Chunin Exam" and hopefully win over our potential allies in a demonstration of skill and strength. Even if that fails then we hope at least we could potentially deter a future attack, slim though that may be of actually succeeding."

Her husband's lips pursed and he closed his eyes. "I take it then that you're the diplomat then?"

Her cup was cradled between her stomach and her clenched hands. "I am," she answered.

"And he's aware that you're pregnant again, isn't he?"

"He is."

His tired, aggravated eyes came upon her once more. "And you're going, aren't you?"

She bowed her head and closed her own eyes. "You may not like it Ichigo but I'm inclined to agree with the principle of what is hoped for: A successful alliance would have our potential enemies think twice before attacking. If that succeeds then we would have allies who are more familiar with our enemies than we are." She looked him in the eye with unwavering, stern resolve. "And while you are no slouch by any means as you proven time and again against the impossible, I don't want to risk losing either you or our children if the day ever comes that the walls that protected us over the years finally fails because we were too stubborn to ask for help."

He released a guttural sigh as he looked down while a hand scratched the back of his head for a minute or two. "Why do I get the feeling the old man knew we were going to have this conversation?"

A light, entertained "hmphed" escaped Rukia, earning her husband's complete, puzzled attention.

"A few years ago you weren't as quick as you are now," she explained much to her amusement when a heavy set scowl was directed at her, her smile lost in favor of a neutral, scrutinizing frown as she tilted her gaze down slightly. "Frankly though I suspect that may have been a part of his reasoning if not someone else's in choosing me. In fact it seems he's trying to draw in as many people unofficially affiliated with the squads even if it's only by proxy at best."

"What do you mean?" he inquired while his brows furrowed.

She swished her tea about once more. "By chance I crossed paths with Harribel's son who was apparently summoned by the Head Captain..."

Ichigo's face crinkled slightly. "That's weird..." he mumbled. "I thought she hates the old man or something."

"Something like that," she admitted just before taking a sip. "From what I understood when I asked him about it though it seems he never even told her; the request was so unusual to him that he felt compelled to see what it was about."

"Well, something like that would certainly grab my attention at least," Ichigo sighed as his hand dropped to his lap at long last. "So how many all told do you think will go?"

"Aside from us?" She took a lengthier draw from her cup as she considered what she knew. "At bare minimum two others. Possibly four all told as back up should someone get sick or you lose your head if I suddenly go into labor."

"Not funny," he grumbled. She nevertheless grinned at him in pure amusement.

"Still..." he said only to stop to sigh and run his hand through his hair. "In any event this is unavoidable, isn't it?"

"It is," she said solemnly.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!_

"Oh not again!"

Rukia only rolled her eyes as she enjoyed her drink, eying the athletic form of her husband who essentially leapt over the table in a mad dash to the kitchen.

"Be easier to learn if they had zanpakuto, wouldn't it?" she called out with a teasing grin to her lips, her hand reaching down for the lever of her chair.

"Still not funny!"


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Bleach, Naruto, any other element that may or may not appear in this story. This story is for entertainment purposes only, not merchandising, branding, or anything else to implicate ownership or a similar function...**

**Doesn't mean I don't wish I owned either of them.**

_The Soul Society, a jewel to all but those of a pessimistic bent would see it as it truly was:__continuation of what was known as life, however debatable that was at that point. __When a human died there are, or rather were, three distinct possibilities as to what happened to his or her soul: __they enter the Soul Society, they became a Hollow, a soul given a monstrous form against their will that plagued forever with a hunger for the energy produced by spirits of the deceased, or sadly if their actions in life demanded retribution they went to hell pure and simple. __As of twelve years ago, according to the calendar the Elemental Nations lived by at least, all three possibilities vanished by a single stroke of a sword in spite of what it would have meant at the time._

_Sosuke Aizen, former captain of Squad Eight who later revealed his true colors as the master and commander of the Arrancar, Hollows given the powers of Soul Reapers, with a seemingly one tracked obsession to supplant the Soul King for the sake of his own ambitions. With them as his army and empowered by the hogyoku, a semi-sentient item which held the power to make the desires of those around it come true, this goal seemed to be very much attainable despite the initial results... In the last battle in what was described as "The Winter War," he was ultimately defeated with combined might of Ichigo Kurosaki's raw power at its peak and the patience that was Kisuke Urahara's trap that could only be sprung when Aizen was at his weakest in his strength of will for the hogyoku to reject him as a host. __With his defeat and subsequent capture even his most hateful of enemies contented themselves to only to slowly blink as the he was left to rot in the lowest dungeon conceivable and wash their hands of him._

_Yet like his zanpakuto's ability of illusions he only deceived us all with a half truth. For everything he had a plan, even one where it was unlikely he wouldn't be as powerful as he was when he had infused the hogyoku to augment and transcend both Hollows and Soul Reapers. __How he did it though is still a mystery that ultimately has no means to be solved, all that __is __known are the facts:_

_The Soul Society, ancient as it was, had no true shortage of enemies both within and without. Aside from Aizen and his arrancar however only one force had the power to threaten the Soul Society directly after centuries of gathering manpower and devoted uncountable hours into research for the ultimate objective of complete and utter annihilation: __Wadenreich, an army of quincy embittered by their ancestor's defeat at the hands of the Soul Society when they came to blows in the past and have been seeking vengeance ever since. __With swift and brutal action they overtook Hueco Mundo, they enslaved the arrancar that were not obliterated in the Winter War and marched on the Soul Society with their supplemented numbers and tactics they marched into the Soul Society.__They were pushed back however at great cost— most of the glory that was the Soul Society itself was turned to ash and its armies reduced to half strength under the barest of circumstances. __Yet there was a silver lining: __heavy as the losses were for the Soul Society, Wadenreich were not without their own significant losses as well and were ripe to for a revolt from its subjugated factions._

_With but a single attack the arrancar not only revolted, freed even, but entered a bitter alliance as well with their former enemies._

_It was when all their efforts were turned to Hueco Mundo that Aizen made his move. What made it worse however was that not only had he escaped he awakened an army of hidden, failed hollow experiments that he had stashed away along with something that was dearly wished to have been a false discovery: __a half-complete hogyoku... __By the time the first of the units to be recalled from the front the palace of the Soul King had been breached, and losses were...__heavy. __What Royal Guardsmen were left were fatally wounded and the aberrations that was Aizen's army were few and far in between that it seemed to they have survived only by mere luck, and Aizen, somehow despite all odds, had bested the Soul King._

_His victory was short lived however; whatever role the Soul King played was nothing short of indispensable. __With his death and no one capable of inheriting his throne, reality as everyone knew it crumbled away at a shocking rate..._

_As it stands Neo-Seireitei and its inhabitants are all that is left of the old world from a forced exodus; saved only by chance and a subsequent gamble. __Whether it can survive in an unfamiliar world, or better yet adapt to it, remains to be seen._

Neo-Seireitei: From Serrated Teeth

Chapter 2: Discussions

Harribel Manor, District Three (East), Neo-Seireitei, Neo-Seireitei, evening

Neither himself nor her trusted fraccion could tell what's going on in her head when she was utterly silent. All that was certain was that the situation had vexed, for the lack of a better word, her greatly all things considering that she hadn't given an answer of any kind yet. While it didn't necessarily entail a punishment of some kind, it was no less disconcerting all the same. Disconcerting enough to warrant him spending all his more latent nervous energy to into small tasks to distract himself, much to others amusement and fortune.

"I'm sorry to impose but could you clean this as well?"

Mildly aggravated blue eyes met politely mischievous lavender ones that lay behind a sleeve covered smile.

"You enjoy tormenting me when the opportunity arises, don't you?"

"Now, now. A lady can only be entertained by a gorilla-woman and a snarling beast for so long."

"I HEARD THAT!" a shout screamed from down the hall.

"You know I tend to forget how sharp her hearing is," he half mumbled as he looked towards the origin of the bellowing from his seat whilst still polishing a piece of silverware, one of many that were neatly arranged before him on a small table further adorned with a box at the corner of which.

"Indeed. Sadly though it's rather selective hearing if past experience is to tell me anything," the woman sighed from behind her sleeve as the other woman seemed to have gotten into a unintelligible argument with undoubtedly the third of his mother's fraccion. With her still hidden smile the woman of olive green hair, half of which was hidden away by a draped across the right half of her head while held in place by bone clip-like extensions attached to her corresponding brow, turned to him with a necklace offered in her loose clutch. "So would you be so kind, Lord Harribel?" she asked politely yet impishly.

"... Would you mind putting it on the table? I prefer to take on what came first if I can help it."

"Certainly!" _Ptt._ "And now that I think about it I happen to have a few other pieces of jewel—"

"I think in essence I already answer that question."

"Thank you!"

XVX

Living room, Kurosaki residence, District Four (East), morning ('Day one')

Karin was hardly thrilled but more or less accepting in the end. If anything she was nothing short of grumpy at worst by the time she had walked out the door all the while griping at how short a notice it all had been without much explanation. He was just thankful she wasn't interested in asking questions beyond the more immediate "why me" or "can someone else take her" ordeals they suffered; seems is semi-secret life before it all had enough of an advantage to at least let her know that _something_ was afoot that neither he nor his wife were going to talk about it for the sake of everyone related to them. He wouldn't put it past her to worm around that particular defense though if she was determined enough...

"So how many people can we stuff into this thing again?" he asked blandly at the odd man before him: he was an older man of grayed features now turning white at the roots of his neatly trimmed beard and ear-length mess of hair that escaped the confines of a bandana. He had on a brown vest that covered an old blue long-sleeved shirt that was fraying at the cuffs, further covering them both was an open light gray flak jacket often found on the shinobi outside the walls. Held up by a cord for a belt were brown pants not unlike his shirt in quality and beneath them were his near naked feet encased in blue sandals, again often found on the shinobi beyond their borders. Of all things though he wore a head plate somehow attached to the brown bandana wrapping about his head that was stamped with 魂, "soul," in the middle of it... He was Shojo Matoi, head shinobi of "Hidden Spirit Village" that was formed in more recent times, three years ago to be precise.

How the village came to be, in short, was thank to the more paranoid merchants venturing to Neo-Seireitei had taken to hiring less than legitimate shinobi for a handful of reasons, most of which consisted of either being more readily available or better yet cheaper than those that were a part of a village. Effectively labeled as traitors for all intents and purposes regardless of reason, these men and women, hunted by their own villages as well as others if the almost synonymous bounties placed on their heads were large enough, an unexpected opportunity rose up for the secluded nation and those who were tired of running for their lives, provided of course they could abide to their laws. Though they are resistant to leave their new home in favor of a night's rest in a bed with a pillow that wasn't lumpy due to a hidden kunai, a steady stream of information of the world around them came to them and helped bolster their defenses despite occasionally being at odds with the far more active Stealth Force. Above all else, however, they enabled the denizens of Neo-Seireitei to better prepare themselves for what waited for them beyond their walls.

... And while it would make more sense to send the once rogues to the exam, almost all of the shinobi of the hidden village had bounties on their heads— it would be equivalent to sticking their heads into the mouth of a starved lion if any one of them to go. Hence the... unorthodox decision to assemble a team under such hasty circumstances under more 'secret' circumstances as headache inducing as that was.

"Bare minimum, three people per team," Shojo half mumbled as he nibbled on a rice cracker.

"Yet we can send in more teams, right?"

He nodded.

"So why not two or three?"

"Wasted effort," he answered without a second's hesitation, drawing a intelligent "huh?" from Ichigo. "It's not worth the risk," he rephrased.

"I'm still not getting it," Ichigo grumbled.

"Alright then let me put it this way: sending two teams, perhaps three, in would be as redundant as it is dangerous in my view given our predicament."

Ichigo's features soured and his brow furrowed as the man before him happily munched on the remains of his cracker. His brow pinched incrementally. "Exactly what do you mean?" he murmured.

"I mean," the head shinobi started after swallowing, "is that basically our greatest advantage at the moment is the fact that the world has no idea what you Soul Reapers, arrancar, fullbringers and whatnot have up your sleeves. In the world of shinobi the greatest danger anyone faces is what _isn't_ known about your enemies."

He held up a finger on his free hand as the hand that held the near nonexistent cracker lowered. "With that in mind I say we diversify our team as much as possible: if a village, namely Konoha considering we're doing this in their home town, figures out some kind of particular style of our team to work around in a fight then we might be in trouble later on in the short run; as it stands it's kind of bad enough as it is considering I can't send a team in to do all the dirty work."

"I see..." he rumbled. "I guess that makes sense... any opinions?"

"Yeah," he finished off the cracker, "between you and that hybrid kid, I think we need one of those fullbringers for diverse representation. If we can keep quiet about this then we'll have them guessing on who's who in terms of training and ability with this group of ours."

"Hybrid kid?" Ichigo inquired curiously till his eyes widened slightly in realization for a moment. "He already accepted?"

Shojo looked slightly to the side and scratched the back of his head. "Well... kind of hoping at least. We've got prospects in the Arrancar community though that shouldn't cause too many problems for us on this gambit."

"And as for the fullbringers?"

"Still working on that."

The Kurosaki patriarch sighed and hung his head. "I'm going to head out for a bit then," he uttered as he stood up from his chair and cracked his neck to get rid of the stiffness that had accumulated in it.

"Be sure to pick up some milk while you're out!" Rukia called out from the kitchen.

"Right!" He turned to the head shinobi who had plucked another cracker from the bowl atop the coffee table. "Be sure to let me know if anything changes, ok?"

"Will do," he announced between chomps.

XVX

Front porch

He stretched and rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess Chad might be able to help out," he mumbled to himself as he crossed his yard with newly adorned shoes as he contemplated on who to ask. Orihime certainly had her own life now that wasn't readily abandoned unless he wanted to be on the receiving end of a toddler beat down. Chad, while fitting the bill plus having experience with fighting alongside himself on more than one occasion, had his own life as a father to speak of compared to Orihime's position as a elementary school teacher...

"Perhaps Ishida could...," Ichigo mumbled to himself as he passed the gate only to stop dead in his tracks... Uryu Ishida, though reliable... was nothing short of a hermit since the exodus. Though pardoned, he hadn't associated himself with _anyone_, niether his old friends or even other quincy, in favor of isolation along the southern forests of Neo-Seireitei where the populace was least present.

"Damn it..." he grumbled just as be began to scratch his head. "Just who _do_ I know that I can ask for help?!" he growled in irritation.

And then a light bulb went off in his head, stopping him in mid scratch and straightening him up from a mild hunching.. "Well it's convenient to say the least," he muttered as he began to saunter away from the gate. He knew of one person that helped fit the criteria, just he wasn't a friend per se... but as he said it was convenient: he was already asked. If anything than it would just help confirm his position in all this at least.

XVX

Pathway, eighteen minutes later

"You know I thought there would've been more of a challenge to this," Ichigo mumbled to himself as he stared in a deadpanned fashion at the very person he wanted to talk to, apparently unaware of his presence by having his back to him as he stared off into a glistening lake as oppose to being found somewhere within the grounds of his mother's estate... with arms crossed no less.

Scratching his cheek, Ichigo looked both to the left and the right to see if there was another familiar, or unfamiliar for that matter, face that may or may not interrupt the soon to be conversation. It was only them as far as he could tell.

At any rate...

"Hey! You got a minute?"

With a upturned brow the blond turned to Ichigo and stared at him curiously.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

"... You're not," he replied neutrally as he returned to his original view.

"Ah..." The orange haired man approached the side the teenager yet kept a respectful distance so not to disturb him any more than he already had. "So what are you doing out here if you don't mind me asking?"

The teenager glanced at him once more without the benefit of turning his head. "... My mother was not fond of the Head Captain's request if that answers your question."

"Ah... How badly is she taking it?"

There was no answer, just the gentle rustle of the almost nonexistent wind.

"That bad huh?"

"... To be honest I'd think she would've received it much better if I stalled my answer over this just a little longer than I had."

"You decided?" Ichigo let slip without a thought before realizing it and in turn palmed his face in mild embarrassment. "Sorry," he mumbled, "what I meant to say is "what did you decide?"

"Oh? You don't believe I'm capable of making decisions by myself?" the younger of the two countered with a raised brow.

"You know that's not what I meant," Ichigo grumbled in conjunction with a deadpan stare. His own brow twitched slightly upon seeing the thin crease of a smirk indent present itself from inside his mask. Both the stare and the smirk were lost however as he returned to his previous view.

"So... you're joining us, am I right?" Ichigo broached.

Though there was no answer, there wasn't a inherent denial in his silence either.

"I see."

At long last the blond moved by tilting his head up towards the near cloudless sky. "To be honest I'm not sure whether she hates me or Head Captain Yamamoto at the moment," he solemnly admitted.

"Hey."

"Hm?" It took a full second after veering his head to look at his companion proper to realize that somehow the older of the two had moved his hand without the former's notice, poised to flick at a moment's notice...

_Flck!_

And apparently even with skin capable of withstanding the devastating touch of a swinging sword, much to his eye scrunching surprise, he could very well feel the unleash flick strike him just above the middle between his eyebrows.

"Don't be an idiot," Ichigo all but muttered in a reprimand. "I may not know her on a personal level but I know well enough that she loves you." Disgruntled by the flick, the younger Harribel looked away till Ichigo spoke up once more. "Do you remember the time she had you learning from Byakuya, myself, and Kenpachi?"

Though he shuddered slightly at the last name he answered regardless. "I do."

The older man smirked slightly. "Yeah... Not a experience I care to live through again if I can help it either. Still, while I can't really vouch for myself, when she sent you to train under us for those lessons she couldn't teach you, she always found herself a spot to hide herself and stay there the entire time... in fact she nearly bolted from it a couple of times when Kenpachi got crazier than usual."

Even while failing to suppress a involuntary squirm the son of Tier Harribel laid a eye on Ichigo that spoke a silent inquiry. He only offer a slight smile as he answered him. "I found her leaning against the wall of the Kuchiki estate when I was dropping by for Rukia's sake and spied on her a couple times more to see if it was just a coincidence..." He grinned a slightly mischievous grin. "Let me tell you, she was nowhere as calm and collected as she was then when you went through the rounds with Kenpachi."

"Can we please stop mentioning him?" It was all the teenager could do to keep it from outright begging.

"Sorry," Ichigo offered with a waning smile. "What I'm getting at though is that if anything I bet she's just... scared right now. Up until now you've pretty much been living a privileged life and save for..." he grinned slightly, "'he-who-must-not-be-named,' you never been in a life threatening battle before."

Again silence pervaded between them.

"Just give her time," Ichigo spoke up once more. "She never abandoned you then and she won't abandon you now."

"Well, I'm going to head home. Just don't worry your head off in the meantime," Ichigo offered as his hands went behind his head and rested themselves there whilst he turned around and sauntered away. "See you later!"

The teenager turned slightly to watch the older of the two of them depart nonchalantly with a slight smirk. "Perhaps you're right," he murmured to himself as he returned to enjoying the view of the lake. "At the same time though you don't live with her."

"Oh Naruto dear!" His brow violently twitched. A part of was severely tempted to swivel a agitated glare at the approaching, almost sadistic woman known as Sung-Sun still high on her demented binge of teasing him with tasks. "The backyard looks as if it's in need of some weeding!"

In resignation he hung his head and sighed heavily. "I'm on it," he muttered lowly in a defeated fashion.

**A/N: Admittedly enough this story had been within my mind for quite some time, years even after reading ****_Shards_****by ****_Psudocode Samurai_****(which regretfully hadn't been updated in quite awhile (10/10/2014 for 'today's' date).****Whether or not it will continue remains to be seen unfortunately as things stand (I usually give up hope of an update ever happening after a year had passed as a rule of thumb to be honest so this is more of a personal opinion than fact).****While I was actually writing a story that was suppose to be more of a prototype to this one...****frankly I just no longer was willing to wait after so long.**

**I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Monkeybandit2, making off with your attention! No refunds.**

**P.S. If there are any Japanese experts out there, would you be so kind as to give my shinobi village a proper name than the one I cooked up for the moment? My standard methods to dealing with this problem had at long last left me high and dry on this one...**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Bleach, Naruto, any other element that may or may not appear in this story. ****This story is for entertainment purposes only, not merchandising, branding, or anything else to implicate ownership or a similar function...**

**Doesn't mean I don't wish I owned either of them.**

_Reality as everyone knew it was crumbling away into a dark void that sucked at the laws both physical and metaphysical in nature in its conquest. __Before long the worlds of the living and the dead were merged into one, perhaps as a semi-conscious effort on 'reality's' part for self preservation as it were; __no longer were ordinary humans incapable of perceiving spirits amongst other things. __Regardless, what was once accepted as fact were forgotten and from it panic arose, worsening what was already a dire situation.__While true many clung together in an effort to survive in a world that was slowly disappearing by the hour, a great deal more either clung to old grudges with renewed conviction or gave way to anarchy altogether, if not textbook insanity. __It was only between these choices and certain destruction that unlikely alliances were forged between traitors to those who continued to vie for vengeance, natural enemies and those who either wanted nothing to do with the others to live their own lives as they saw fit to begin with. __To this day, for twelve years since then, that alliance is only loosely held for the sake of inhabiting an otherwise unknown world now that the greatest danger lies in the unknown, despite the information provided by refugees and, for the lack of a better word, deserters of the shinobi villages who tire of life on the road and a knife hidden under their pillows._

_Still, every problem, every boon, both imagined and real, none of it would exist today were it not for the actions of a desperate Shopkeeper, once a Captain of Squad Thirteen, an unwitting boy brought from another world, and of course an arrancar at the right place, at the right time..._

_Yet all the same, as with anything the cost of their salvation came at a price.__Whether it was for good or for ill only time may tell, as is the case as to whom would these fortunes and disasters that may be would fall upon._

Neo-Seireitei: From Serrated Teeth

Chapter 3: Hints of the past

Harribel Manor, District Three (East), Neo-Seireitei

Training in its traditional form didn't come today; seldom was it that he had to train, even rarer to convince, with his mother's fraccion whereas she was readily available. As a result after so many years of her tutelage, along with the occasional 'tutor' to ensure he could not only experience but better adjust to enemies whose style greatly varied from their own in the heat of battle, the greatest threat her fraccion could ever pose to him, outside of their 'pet,' was their numbers, their collective experience and the overall strength that begot from them.

On top of all that, however, is that, while handpicked in the grand scheme of things, they were her fraccion for a reason. Though she was by no means cold, especially to those who knew her on a more familiar level, she didn't get as far as she did without being pragmatic by some measure.

_CLASH!_

After all, teamwork was a beast unto itself when done right. Inter-team arguments notwithstanding. Especially if the team in question had the benefit of fighting alongside one another for at least a century in the old world.

"_He's Wide Open!_"

Cyan Sung-Sun, and Emiliou Apacci, Franceska Mila Rose, the Tres Bestias, his mother's fraccion. In respective order they were from shortest to tallest, a near even five feet, one inch higher and just short of a foot taller than Cyan if one cared for the details in their height for all three.

From behind, Apaaci, the second shortest of the group, a woman of short blue hair capped by a 'helmet' of bone showcasing a long curved spike and red-haired plumage who wore a white short sleeved shirt lined with black alongside similarly patterned long pants, one eye ice blue whilst the other was the color of amber with the addition of a red outline of makeup to surround it, slide toward the straining blond from behind with a sweeping kick aimed at his ankles.

Rather than submit himself to the attack he risked one hand away from his sword and pointed it at his most literal pressing threat at her face, his hand clenched save for the middle and index fingers pointed straight at her. In direct response to this, especially upon recognizing what he planned to do, the woman's eyes at first widened and then clamped themselves shut to brace for the undoubted attack to come.

She wasn't disappointed in the least when a darkened crimson ball of energy manifested itself at the tips of his fingers and shot out at a speed only matched by its resulting impact.

**_BOOM!_**

Yet despite the evident ferocity of the attacked, most remarked by the billowing smoke that enveloped the woman's head, she still held her stance though slipped just enough for their interlocked swords to slip away from one another as he retreated and jumped passed the sweeping leg in a back flip.

"Damn it! You let him get away!"

"Oh shut up!" Mila Rose barked as she stampeded through the smoke after the son of their master. As for herself, the tallest and of dark skin with curling shoulder length brunette hair, nothing was tarnished in the least between her skin, her spiked bone 'helmet,' and neither the clasp nor the convergent portion of her cloak she wore over her shoulders that didn't conceal the underbust corset-like trappings she wore nor the bikini-like top she wore for decency. Just beneath her exposed muscular stomach and her hollow hole which sat atop of which was a segmented skirt that went as far as her thighs, made almost entirely of strips of cloth that allowed at least slivers of skin to be seen when moved rather than a traditional make.

With a snarl both women turned to the teen as he made for the more spacious center of the training circle compared to their own area of combat, both shot off after him with the shorter of the two disappearing in a flicker combined with the sound of static.

As he drew nearer to the center, Apacci reappeared with a flying kicked aimed at his head, behind her Sung-Sun finally made her appearance, a woman of olive-green hair which was far longer and straighter than Mila Rose's own. For her own garb she wore a long sleeved, hand enveloping dress not unlike the others in general design or pattern but it was a dress all the same by comparrison. On her waist were a pair of criss-crossing belts forming an X, and her own indicator of her nature as a arrancar came in the form of three clip-like extensions on the right side of her head that bore a backward sweeping veil. In her own grasp was a sai unlike Mila Rose's shortened broadsword.

"GO!" Mila Rose ordered from behind despite Apacci having already taken the initiative. From behind said woman Sung-Sun launched her own attack, her sai thrust forth from its rest as Mila Rose held her own weapon of choice up to the side during her own charge. the kick was easily dodged as well as the retaliatory kick which followed by her other leg that wildly lashed out before her body disappeared from the same technique from before. Before and during her vanishing act the sword within the blonde's hands switched hands, freeing the most dominant of the two to catch the sai without worry, the blade of it sliding and scraping between the iron hard skin between his middle and ring finger. Before she realized his plan he harshly pulled back, taking with it the blade and the startled woman with it as the teenager spun in place, with neither letting go till it was too late for the elder of the two, he effectively hurtled the woman into the other woman's path and in turn causing her to take a moment of her time to slip past but delay her own attack as well as he disappeared via the same ability Apacci used.

"Oh no you don't!" From elsewhere, clear of the minute scuffle, Apacci's gloved hands snatched away the thick circular links just above each glove and seamlessly snapped them both without hint of a break in them. From each 'bracelet' came a set of curved spike-like blades as the bands finally warped themselves at last to give itself a slant for a quick slash, the unity at last broken without incident in the process to better present the blades for the attack yet to come. By no means did she wait, at least not any longer for him to reappear in a clearing in the circle before charging at him as he pointed his pair of fingers at Mila Rose and Sung-Sun, in turn a larger orb than before initially manifested itself and grew brighter with each passing second. Seeing this, one 'bracelet' returned to 'normal' to which she tossed itat him, followed quickly by herself with a battle cry on her lips. With his sword still in his other hand he deflected the flying armament easily enough, causing it to spin away only to arc back to its caster, _despite_ her being on the move as she, with another war cry, struck out, forcing him to turn his attack to her rather than her sisters-in-arms.

"Cero." The 'ball' fired upon her, its radius far grander than its earlier counterpart though far slower in its launch, and yet the power behind it was undeniable in comparison. Regardless, with a savage smirk she dared to skim along the side without touching it in her advance towards him in an lazy dodge afforded by experience. Holding her wrist out, the 'bracelet' reunited with her and with her other arm she slashed at him as soon as she had gotten close enough, causing him to block in retaliation with his sword as another cero developed from his pointed fingers. In the meantime Mila Rose had appeared behind him, to his right, her sword pointed right at his back from an angle whereas Sung-sun similarly positioned herself at his remaining side, all three of them forming a triangle around him as a end result.

Nevertheless undeterred, the orb at the end of his fingers suddenly jerked downward, following his fingers as he pointed at the ground. "Cero."

_BOOM!_

Before anyone knew it Mila Rose came hurtling out of the onset smokescreen of dirt and dust thanks to the younger Harribel arm hooked around her stomach as he madly dashed to the ring's edge, all while as she screamed, cursed and attempted to drive him away with both her fist and the pommel of her sword there was a barely hidden smirk underneath his mask that clung to him despite the fierce resistance. The grin gained a puckish edge to it as he finally reached the edge, a precursor of what was to come.

"Don't You DaAARE!" And unceremoniously he chucked her over the edge, effectively 'defeating' her as far as the morning skirmish was concerned.

"HYAAAH!" Stepping to the side, Apacci, in all her eagerness, sailed through the spot he was standing, flying over the edge in the process and accidentally crashing her flying leg kick into Mila Rose; ducking, the flying armament aimed at his head flew after Apacci.

"You Idiot!"

"Hey! It Looked Like He Dropped His Guard There!"

As the two began to bicker and Naruto turned his attention to Sung-Sun who kept her distance, a door slide open to the balcony overlooking the backyard that was inhabited only by one woman, the matriarch of the family of five if her fraccion were counted, especially since they were the only ones permitted to live within her home outside of herself and her son

"What is it that you want this time?" Tier evenly demanded without turning to the intruder whom she earned a sigh from.

"Unbelievable as it was, I just received news about the... incident. They're really keeping this one under wraps this time," KisukeUrahara jovially answered as he lisurely sauntered to a spot next to her, though with a decent amount of distance between them.

She didn't reply to him in the least as she intently stared at the scene below as Sung-Sun was doing the best of her ability to fend off her son's assault. Off to the side Kisuke let out a low, impressed whistle. "He seems to be doing much better. I remember not that long ago that the three of them would easily trounce him with barely a scratch on any of them."

"He's improved over the years," she evenly admitted like before. Kisuke, meanwhile, nodded. Silence soon pervaded the scene, interrupted by the occasional clash of weaponry and even a seldom blast of energy.

"Seems he favors his abilities as a arrancar abilities more so than his soul reaper ones," he observed. "Perhaps to be more like his mother?" he quickly suggested with a teasing grin aimed at her, coupled with a sidelong glance. Unfortunately for him and his diminishing grin he was still getting the cold shoulder. "You know I noticed he tends to model himself after you in most cases. Mimicry is the sincerest form of flattery as they do say!" Still he was ignored.

With a sigh he decided to go for broke as he returned his gaze to the training field. "We both know what's going to happened eventually." She didn't so much as glance at him as he continued. "Like it or not your son is as independent as you are at his core, and itching to go out there just as badly as everyone else." Out of the corner of his eye he could've sworn her fingers tensed slightly, gripping her arms a little tighter while they contemplatively clutched at her arms from underneath her bosom since he had arrived. "You know that as well I do," he concluded. "Why else would you bother training him each and every day? Go out of your way to ensure he had 'tutor's' to help him be better acquainted with his own abilities and to better react to diverse styles you and your fraccion couldn't teach him?"

"You know why," she sternly, yet evenly, retorted.

"I do," he admitted. "At the same time though his own fraccion took them down long before he had a chance to be hurt." What remained his smile drooped into a small frown. "All the same though—"

"If you're trying to convince me into accepting the fact that the Head Captain is willing to sacrifice—"

"You know well enough that's not what he's thinking and we both know that's not the real reason you're upset with him at the moment," he flatly interrupted, effectively cutting her off and finally goading her into glaring at him from the corner of her eye. "You're scared you won't be there in the event he faces gets into trouble that could very well be beyond him."

Her glare hardened... but she didn't deny it.

"I'll admit a part of me is a little paranoid that something might happen, the kind of something I've been on the lookout out for years now... in a way though that's all the more reason he should go."

Her eyes narrowed into slits. "You already did your share of experiments on him."

"I know," he said flatly. "But my point is he should go, he can only grow and learn so much in one place; the world is a dynamic place wherever you go and eventually one way or another he will find himself in some form of trouble that you won't be able to help him with. He needs to go out there to find his own limits, his own problems, acknowledge them, learn from them and overcome them with time." He blew out a gentle sigh and he tugged the brim of his hat downward. "And as I said, you know well enough he's going to go out there someday, with or without you. With that in mind the real reason I'm here is to say that when he leaves tomorrow don't let him leave thinking he's leaving on bad terms with his one and only mother by crossing through the gate." With nothing else to say he turned to leave.

As he left, aqua eyes turned back to the field below in time to see her son standing proudly over a surrendered Sung-Sun who had soot marring her face. By the time she turned around to face the door herself she wasn't surprised in the least that Kisuke Urahara had left almost as quietly as he had arrived in the first place, not that it mattered. More forced than she would've like to, she left her spot on the balcony and went through the doorway left open, perhaps as a odd courtesy by Kisuke as if he knew what she was going to do.

How her hidden scowl was deepened ever further by that.

In a matter of moments she navigated through the halls and the occasional odd room for a means of a shortcut until she found where she wanted to go. It was a fairly simple den, hoist to a desk, a pair of bookcases, a rug by the one and only window in the room which a comfortable, broken in leather reclining chair sat atop of which, not to mention the wooden chair behind the desk. Next to the recliner was a lamp. On the wall, apart from everything else, was a simple scenery picture of a doubtlessly unnamed part of the Elemental Nations. However she ignored most of the room's contents in favor of reaching the bookcases and from them she drew out a leather bound album with no indication of a title anywhere on its covering. She looked behind her to ensure that no one was in the hall behind her, lest of all in the room before she moved to and closed the door. Next she went to the recliner and for a split moment she considered opening the window, currently closed by blinds, to let in some light in the room, instead opting for a nearby lamp before settling into the chair, nestling the album on her lap and promptly opening it to immediately gaze upon the collection of pictures the cover had kept hidden.

From underneath her collar and the mask of bone permanently fastened to the bottom half of her face, her features softened as she looked at one of the earliest of the photos, most of which taken and sent by Kisuke Urahara without forewarning or consent out of puckish delight at her overall expense, both good and non: The manor which they lived in was at last finished and her fraccion were facing it, none of them the wiser to the sudden snapshot that captured their backs as they admired the work whereas she and her son were facing the camera. Of the two Naruto, barely seven years old, his skin whitened to a shade going beyond what was considered 'pale,' was giving the camera a toothy grin as he waved at the man behind it whilst she gave him, and by proxy the camera, an annoyed glare. Each only had a hand to spare, not that she made use of hers, as both were interlocked in a handhold belonging to a parent and child.

She turned to the next one, again courtesy of Urahara: Tessai, Kisuke's sole employee to his shop, was chasing after her son from the outskirts of his shop in a hell-bent drive to catch him. Eight years old at the time, his skin had finally taken on a healthier tone, plus tanned from time spent outdoors whereas Tessai was covered in flour and eggs. She smirked as that day came back to her, of how a sullen Naruto was eventually dragged back to her house after finally being caught by the peeved man who still had broken eggshells in his hair despite his best efforts to clean up at the time. As punishment for his prank she made her son work at that shop for the better part of the month; next to that photo was her son giving his own impression of her annoyed glare at Kisuke, and again the camera, as it caught him holding aloft a box while he wore a green apron and a bandana as a worker's cap.

The next was when he was just short of being ten years old, something she remembered quite well as a bitter, solemn, pained smile overtook her as her son did his best to glare back at her, both back then and now thanks to the immortalized moment taken by her for a change, as he lay on the ground, dirtied and his zanpakuto in hand from his first and perhaps one of the more brutal of his training sessions in the years to come. She scantly eyed the other photos present before turning the next page.

Naruto, age thirteen and a half, beginning to dress in the trappings og an arrancar consisting of white and black hakama pants and a long sleeved jacket, was embedded in a wall, courtesy of Kenpachi Zaraki, Captain of Squad Eleven. To add insult to injury a number of his subordinates managed to surround her trapped and dazed son and posed for the picture; to the sides and blurred by their own hasty dash were their fellow squad members who didn't make it in time to be in the picture as they desired. The picture was of course Kisuke's handiwork, though for the life of her she couldn't remember seeing him there to begin with.

The next photo was one of a pair consisting of her son, short of being fourteen years old and now wearing the same style of face mask he was wearing today, fleeing like a bat out of hell from a swarm of cherry blossoms; the photo next to it was of Byakuya Kuchiki, Captain of the Sixth Division whose hair was an afro emitting static electricity in palpable throngs of lightning and his half destroyed yard; in the captain's grasp was his zanpkuto's handle, his sword of course released into its shikai state as a method for punishment; though Naruto was much better today than he was back then with his hado, bakudo and every other category of 'spells' associated with Soul Reapers that he was permitted to learn of, there was still room for improvement.

Beneath them, at age fourteen proper, was her son, mask-less, holding up an award like a victory trophy with the grin to accompany it in what appeared to be a banquet hall in the company of a handful of soul reapers, the most notable of which being Kisuke Urahara and a smirking Ichigo as everyone toasted to her son's achievement. Like the Kuchiki set there was a photo nearby, painstaking taken by Kisuke to show the reason for the celebration: A miffed Yoruichi Shihoin leaping at the camera with a snarl, her hair which was usually a dark purple hair had been dyed a bright bubble gum pink; next to it and barely in focus was her in her cat form, also dyed bubble gum pink from head to toe...

She rolled her eyes and moved onto the next page and the page after that: One picture showcased her son cleaving a boulder in twain to test his growing might. Another showed of him and his 'aunts,' her fraccion strewn about the living room, all of who were asleep with the one and only TV within the entire household on. Displayed in another was her son running from a furious Tessai, _again_, who was now missing the entirety of his head of hair plus his facial hair...

Photo after photo, a parade of memories and reminiscing, her almost hidden expressions made one change after another that ranged from mild irritation, to a quiet depression, to a gentle smirk and everywhere in between in no particular order. At last her hand dared to close the album at a slow pace once she eyed the last, the very first photo she had ever received from the semi-infuriating man, one she remembered quite well without the photo... It was of the Lost Dimension, their now ruined 'world' or what was left of it, _if_ it was still there. Rather it was of her and Naruto, six years old and far paler than his seven year old self, his skin was almost whiter than snow in its purest form. His hair also suffered from the lack of color too, yet instead of being pale or else hollow, it was platinum blond in color. Regardless of what he looked like, there he was on her lap, cuddling against her as he peacefully napped, herself of course in a chair in a dilapidated house that was their home at the time with a hand combing through his hair.

The cover of the album quietly clapped shut and she sighed as she leaned back into the chair.

Without warning the door opened enough for Kisuke to poke his head in. "By the way I ate the last cookie in the cookie jar. I hope you don't mind." He slammed the door shut in time to avoid a especially weak bala that only resulted in a 'clunk' sound upon hitting the door.

XVX

Living Room

Once the dust had settled it was back to the routine as before. Namely cleaning and/or performing chores till the appointed hour had arrived.

"Oh Naruto dear, I think this lamp could use a good polishing!" And virtually no one was ashamed in taking advantage of him in this state: Apacci had 'asked' him to polish a rather surprising collection of silver forest animal figurines, the sheer size of said collection or the fact she had them to begin with, he knew not which surprised him more. Mila Rose had him take care of the living room from running the vacuum cleaner to dusting the shelves so she could catch up on her 'stories' on the TV. As for Sung-Sun she was bringing forth and dredging out just about every single bauble and knickknack they had collected over the years once all her jewelry had been rendered into impromptu stars of silver and gold... he half suspected it was out of revenge for what happened earlier this morning.

Yet in spite of his suspicions he accepted the trinket anyway, dabbed a rag with some olive oil and took to it while the woman responsible slipped away to some other corner of the house in search for more conveniently dirty decorations in need of a good cleaning to add to the growing horde that now threatened to dominate both he couch and the coffee table; had Apacci not come by earlier to retrieve her collection he would've been sitting on the floor at this point.

So intent was he on the lamp that the sound of a camera shuttering escaped him for a full moment before it registered with his mind, causing him to look up in curiosity only to find Mila Rose missing, the TV was still on however. Looking for the source elsewhere, he was startled slightly to find his mother quietly navigating her way through an otherwise sparsely decorated room. She looked to the motley collection of ornaments in vague interest in her passing until she was but a step or two away from him with both of her arms crossed in contemplation.

"Mom?" She did not answer in him the slightest, opting instead to inspect her son, for what he did not know. As her gaze lingered on him his hand which was absently polishing the lamp without guidance slowed to a halt. Eventually the ornamental piece was placed onto the couch seat so he could give her his complete, undivided attention. To his surprise, not that he was expecting anything for sure to begin with, she knelt down and embraced him in a hug without a given reason. Confused, he returned it as best as he could.

"Regardless of how powerful your allies might be, be sure to take your fraccion with you," she gently said before getting up and pinioning him with her stern stare, her arms once again crossed under her bust as an act of parental authority. "And I fully expect you to keep up your training practices each and every day while you're out there."

He blinked a tad disbelievingly at her before a smile slowly crept through his masked face. "Yes, mom."

She nodded, bent down and picked up a few of the baubles that had collected on the coach before she turned to leave. After reaching halfway near the exit she stopped and turned her head to him. "And one more thing." He looked up to her as he grabbed the lamp once more. "Be sure to clean the foyer while you're at it."

"Et tu, mom?" he let out in an exasperated sigh while as he hanged his head in mild despair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answered imperiously with just a hint of teasing while she resumed her retreat.

He shook his head and took up where he left off on the lamp in time for Sung-Sun to reappear with a ornamental bowl in her grasp.


End file.
